This Old Couch
by Third Phoenix
Summary: Agent Pendergast stops by Corrie's apartment and spends some time on her couch.


Corrie Swanson always found herself wishing she could read Special Agent Pendergast's mind. She was always happy when he decided to stop by her apartment to check up on her, but the man was so damn hard to read. Was he proud of her? Did he come to the conclusion that supporting her schooling was a mistake? Ugh, why couldn't the man ever reveal even a hint of emotion?

They sat in Corrie's cozy, albeit cramped, living area of her modest apartment. She was eager to show Pendergast her apartment, not only because she was paying for it with her own money from her waitressing job, but also because it gave her a tingle of pleasure knowing the pair of them were so close to her bedroom. Pendergast was seated in the middle of Corrie's beat-up secondhand couch, and she sat to his left, turned slightly and propped up on the armrest, the better to face him.

"Miss Swanson, I want you to know how proud I am of you." His buttery tones mixed with his compliment swirled to send a wave of pleasure through Corrie's body. "Not only did you graduate from Phillip's Academy in the top of your class, you also managed to make it through your first year of University with an outstanding GPA. You are going to go very far, my dear." So, after all this time, she did manage to make him proud. Corrie felt herself blush and swell with pride.

"It's all thanks to you. If it hadn't been for you rescuing me from that shithole in Kansas, not to mention literally saving my life in Job's lair, I would never have made it this far. Thank you again for everything, Pendergast." Corrie didn't know how many times she has thanked him, but she knew she could never thank him enough. Next to her sat the only man, the only person, who had really seen her. The only person who had ever looked past her purple hair and her spiked bracelets. The only person who ever had faith in her. It was no wonder that she found herself infatuated with him.

"Sometimes all a person needs is a push in the right direction. Now, let us toast to your success!" Pendergast had brought along a bottle of wine to celebrate, which took Corrie by surprise, seeing as how she was still a few months away from 21. Then again, Agent Pendergast always took her by surprise. They clinked glasses, and Corrie was taken aback when Pendergast held her gaze as they both sipped. What was on his mind?

"What do you think of the port, Corrie?" Corrie? He definitely just used her first name. Something was up.

"It's pretty good. It may not be rum and coke, but I can dig it," Corrie smiled.

"Ah, rum and coke. I take it that is what you drink at college parties?"

"Mostly beer, since it's cheaper. Personally I'd take rum over anything. But if you're supplying, I'm drinking." She tipped her glass towards him before taking another mouthful. As she was talking, Pendergast has begun to remove his suit jacket, his fingers expertly sliding down to undo each button before shrugging out of it. Was it hot in here?

"I see." Corrie could see an amused expression coming over Pendergast's face. Taking another sip, and feeling the warmth engulf her body, Corrie decided to test the water and slid a little closer to Pendergast's body. Hell, maybe the wine was affecting him as well. The man has to have some kind of Kryptonite.

"Miss Swanson, I need to tell you something," Pendergast drawled. His silvery eyed twinkled with what Corrie hoped was anticipation.

"What is it?" Corrie leaned in, barely able to breath.

Pendergast looked deep into her eyes with his own penetrating blue ones. "This is a horrible couch. We will have to pick up a new one if I am ever going to return," he smiled at her devilishly. Was he serious?

Despite her disappointment, and feeling rather foolish, she kept her demeanor. "Aww come on, it's not so bad." Patting the couch, she went on. "It's comfy in that worn in kind of way. It's good for relaxing, sleeping, even screw..." she managed to catch herself before finishing her sentence, her mouth opening a little bit in her stupidity.

"Why, Miss Swanson, here I was thinking you were a model student of perfect purity." The amusement was back on his face, and she noticed he shifted slightly more towards her. "Couches can be so cramped and constricting. I personally have always enjoyed it up against a wall." Oh my god, no effing way did he just say that! Corrie choked on the mouthful of wine she had taken.

"Haha, whoa! I never thought I would be sitting on my couch with Special Agent Pendergast, talking about bumping uglies!" Corrie's face was flushed and her heart was racing. What kind of wine is this!

"What a colorful expression. We are both adults, Miss Swanson. But if it makes you uncomfortable, we can always change the subject," he said, his honeyed voice conveying the amusement on his face.

"I wear corsets and a dog collar, do you really think sex makes me uncomfortable?" she laughed. "So, why up against a wall? Just out of curiosity." Curiosity mixed with the desire to know what gets Agent Pendergast's motor revving.

"I have always been a fan of the position. Perhaps because it allows me a great deal of control, and I have a constant view of the woman's face. I enjoy seeing the effects of my progress." Pendergast's voice remained neutral, as if they were discussing the weather, but it had lowered subtly, and he had kept Corrie's steady gaze. She couldn't believe this was happening. "What about you, Miss Swanson? A favorite?"

"Uh, well..." she was speechless, too taken aback. She had to regain control of herself, remain cool and calm if things were going to go in the direction she wanted. "I guess I've always been a fan of simple girl-on-top. I, too, like to have control." She refused to look away from him.

"Ah, perhaps that is why we get along so well. It is always good to have someone like yourself around, someone like a rival," his voice was so smooth, his accent so divine. Corrie had never found herself in such tense anticipation before. Before she even realized it, his hand had pressed itself on her thigh, his fingertips inched under her skirt. "Alas, I always have the upper hand," he drawled. Corrie knew Pendergast fairly well, and she was certain he was egging her on to place her hand on his, to "gain the upper hand" from him. He did love his games. Well, screw that. She had a better idea.

In a swift movement worthy of Pendergast's own catlike skills, Corrie roller her body onto Pendergast's, straddling him, pushing her palms into his shoulders, pinning him against the back of the couch. The surprise was evident on his face.

"Alas this, Pendergast. Who has the upper hand now?" Corrie couldn't keep the triumph out of her voice. She also couldn't keep her body from shaking. Was she really in his lap?

"Brava, Miss Swanson. You have not only taken me by surprise, it would appear you have won. Let me just say that both of us have crossed some boundaries, undoubtedly due to this fine port, and it would be best if I leave now. I am dreadfully sorry for any confusion, Corrie."

Damn. Corrie thought she was really going to score with Pendergast. She felt so let down, so stupid. Things were going to be weird and awkward now, and he probably wouldn't visit her again, with or without a new couch.

"Oh, ok Um, I'm sorry, too," she stammered. She quickly got off of him; if she didn't feel so embarrassed she would have lingered a little, just to relish in the fact that she was actually touching him without him tensing up and squirming away. As she was standing up and preparing to sit back down, Pendergast grabbed her around the waist, hoisted her up for a moment, and pinned her beneath his own body on the couch. It all happened so fast that Corrie wasn't quite sure what had actually happened.

"Oh, Miss Swanson you have fallen for the oldest trick in the book. You have a lot to learn, my dear," he mused at her. His eyes were electric blue and refused to look away from her own startled green eyes. Corrie refused to be bested, and roughly grabbed him by the hair and pulled him down to her, locking her mouth on his. If he was going to pin her down, she was going gain the upper hand some other way.

She was pleased to find that he didn't fight off her kiss, but pushed into it. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, delighted to taste the sweet flavor of the wine still on his tongue. As she explored his mouth, she allowed her hands to roam over his shoulders and back, feeling the muscles always so concealed by his crisp suit. Perhaps encouraged by her hands, Pendergast began slowly but aggressively thrusting his hips into her. In return, Corrie grinded into him, reveling at the sensations she was feeling.

She slid her hand up to the agent's neck and began caressing it, hoping it the same effect on him as it did on her. He shifted slightly, and his breathing came in short, rapid breaths. Apparently, it was working. Taking advantage of him while he struggled against her, Corrie shifted herself to roll on top of him yet again, pinning him on his back.

"Well played, Miss Swanson," he breathed at her, his accent heavy with lust. He continued to rock his hips slightly, and she could feel him growing harder underneath her. He roamed his hands over her back, resting them on her backside. Taking his cues, Corrie began to grind into him, allowing her weight to press down onto his most sensitive area, forcing a soft moan from his lips. Pendergast grabbed a hold of Corrie's hips and began rocking her, grinding her into him. Not about to let him control her like this, Corrie removed the agent's hands from off of her body and pinned them above his head.

"Not this time, Pendergast. I'm going to show you what it's like to abandon yourself to someone else...whether you like it or not." Pendergast's eyebrow cocked up at the demand, but a quick smile flitted over his mouth.

"Show me your worst, Miss Swanson." He was so sexy when he was being coy. Then again, when wasn't he being coy?

Corrie made no attempt to go slow, and started off by ripping open the agent's shirt, buttons flying this way and that.

"Thank you for that, Miss Swanson. Now I need to come up with a believable explanation for my lack of shirt when Proctor inquires about it."

Corrie was too busy taking in the sight of him to respond. His skin was so smooth, yet so riddled with scars. For a moment she felt sorry for him. So much pain had been inflicted onto him. She hesitantly ran her hands along his chest and down his stomach, stopping at the hem of his pants, teasingly, then ran her fingers back up his torso. She did this all so slowly, afraid to touch the old scars. She wondered if any were from that brother of his.

"Do not fear, Miss Swanson. They may look bad, but do not be so gentle. I expected more from you," he sneered at her. Alright, game on.

"You talk way too much Pendergast," Corrie told him, and pulled her tee shirt over her head, draping it over the agent's lips and shoving some of it in his mouth. "That should fix you. In fact..."

Corrie allowed her hands to wander down to his pants, where she began to remove the thin leather belt. After removing it, she used it to belt the agent's wrists together above his head.

"So much for that control thing, huh? I'll show you who's running the show," she smiled devilishly, undoing the button of his pants.

Corrie slowly lowered herself down his body, dragging the zipper of his pants with her. She slid her hand into the material and grabbed him, exilerated at the low moan that came from him. This was finally happening. She began to stroke him, and while she did he started to move his hips, trying to shimmy out of his pants. Forget that, she was going to let him squirm. She liked the way he looked: shirt torn open, pants undone, hands belted above his head. Corrie was going to remember this site for a long time.

After a few moments of stroking him, she lowered her head down and took him in her mouth, using one hand to hold herself up, the other to push his boxer briefs out of the way. She glanced up to see him slipping his hands out of the belt and removing the shirt from his mouth, tossing it to the floor. With his hands free now, he ran his long fingers through Corrie's black and purple streaked hair, creating quite the contrast of colors.

Corrie began to wonder how close to the brink he was; she wasn't about to let it end here, but she was also curious as to how far she could push him before he went over. She began swirling her tongue around him, using her hand as well. Pendergast tugged lightly, then more forcefully on her hair and stretched out his legs, moaning softly. Corrie began to realize that she couldn't take much more of this. She couldn't remember a time when she had been more turned on. Quickly, she slipped her panties off from under her skirt and lowered herself onto Pendergast, resulting in both of them letting out lustful sighs.

"Finally had to give in, Miss Swanson?" Pendergast choked out, smiling and arching his eyebrow up at her. Cocky bastard.

"I just thought it was time I got some enjoyment out of this, too." Score one for Corrie.

Pendergast bent his legs up, and Corrie arched herself backwards, resting her back on the agent's knees. Together they rocked on the creaky couch, Pendergast's hands roaming over Corrie's body. She did the same, taking mind not to linger on his scars. When a lock of Corrie's vibrant hair would fall to her face, Pendergast reached up to sweep it out of her hands. He always maintained that Southern charm. The agent's own blonde hair, normally so well kept and swept back, was ruffled and damp with sweat, and had fallen to his eyes. Corrie didn't bother to return the favor; it was sexy seeing him like this.

Corrie realized she was nearing the brink soon. She glanced down once or twice to view Pendergast under her, watching their performance. It only pushed her closer to the edge. But she wanted to make sure he was going to enjoy this, too. She always wanted to impress him, why stop now? She could feel the muscles in his legs contracting, his hands gripping her hips tighter and tighter, and she could see his chest rising and falling more quickly now, his abdomen muscles contracting quicker, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Abandon yourself now, Pendergast," Corrie dared to say, staring him straight in the eyes.

"After you," he drawled in between breaths. Always the gentleman.

Corrie quickened the pace, Pendergast following suit. She shuddered as the end finally washed over. She dug her nails into his shoulders, dragging them downwards. She was making sure he would have something to remember this by, even if for only a little while. He took her by surprise when he reciprocated, lightly digging his finely manicured fingernails into her back as his body began to tremble lightly. Corrie was delighted to see a red flush spreading over his chest, shoulders, and face. When it was over, Corrie leaned her body downwards, resting her chest on Pendergast's.

"Miss Swanson, do you remember what I told you when we first met and you thought I was trying to procure a sexual relationship?"

"I seem to recall you saying it would be ridiculous and out of the question," Corrie laughed.

"Alas, it would appear I was wrong. I was also wrong about your tongue ring. How delightful."

Corrie laughed again, looking into the agent's face. He was so handsome. She still hadn't quite wrapped her head around what had happened.

"Miss Swanson?"

"Hmm?"

"I think we'll pick up that new couch tomorrow morning."


End file.
